Bedtime
by reading
Summary: Kirsten's changing relationship with Ryan.


Bedtime  
  
_This is "alternate universe" in the sense that I'm ignoring the fact that Kirsten walked in on Ryan and Marissa making out early in the season. Because I can. And because, well, ew._

_I don't own anything OC related._  
  
It was three o'clock in the morning and a light in the pool house was still on.  
  
Kirsten looked out the kitchen window and weighed her options. If it had been Seth living out there, she wouldn't have hesitated about checking on him. With Ryan, she wasn't sure. She took another sip of water and considered. She'd stuck her head into Seth's room on her way to the kitchen. Ryan wasn't her child, but he was a kid living under her roof. That gave her the right and the responsibility to look in on him if she felt like it.  
  
She was going in.  
  
Kirsten eased the door open, listening carefully for signs of life before fully committing to the invasion. As she peered into the room, the blinds slapped softly against the windows on the French door. The figure on the bed, clearly sound asleep just moments before, shot to his feet, startled into wakefulness. Chest heaving, Ryan stood, poised for flight, blinking rapidly in Kirsten's direction as he struggled to get his bearings.  
  
Uncertainly, Kirsten came the rest of the way into the pool house, clutching to her chest the stack of clean clothes she'd grabbed from the laundry room as an excuse. She smiled hesitatingly at Ryan. His reaction had frightened and disturbed her, but she knew better than to let him see that. What, she thought with a pang, could have happened to make him so scared? She tried for nonchalance.  
  
"I noticed that your light was on, so I brought your clean laundry over."  
  
Kirsten could see that Ryan was still unsettled. But, he seemed to have relaxed somewhat when he'd realized it was Kirsten.  
  
"Oh." He was trying to focus. Now that the initial sharp rush of adrenaline had subsided, he was left feeling dazed and off kilter. "Thanks."  
  
"Are you still up?" She asked it gently, trying to soothe.  
  
Ryan looked groggily at the bed, strewn with books, and back to Kirsten. The racing of his heart had slowed to its more normal thump.thump.thump, but he could still hear it in his ears.  
  
"Kind of. I was studying, and I fell asleep, I guess."  
  
She smiled, heart constricting at his rumpled sleepiness. His eyelids were drooping, and his voice young as he fought with the disorientation of being awakened from a heavy slumber.  
  
"I'm sorry I woke you. You should go put on your pyjamas."  
  
Ryan blinked drowsily at her and nodded sleepily. "'kay." He shuffled obediently to the wicker shelves. Pulling the sweatpants and t-shirt he slept in out of a cubbyhole, he disappeared into the bathroom.  
  
Kirsten raised an eyebrow at his easy acquiescence. He must be tired, she thought with amusement. Taking advantage of his absence, Kirsten set his clean clothes on the end of his bed, shifting the clutter of books and papers and laptop onto the bedside table. Moving to the side of the bed he slept on, she straightened out the wrinkled comforter and sheets, turning them down and fluffing the pillows. Kirsten realized abruptly what she was doing and laughed softly to herself. Ryan allowed her so few opportunities to take care of him. She was going to take advantage of the time she had right now to do just that. Shaking her head with a smile, she continued to straighten up what little was out of place.  
  
She grabbed his laundry basket and dropped the filthy soccer uniform he'd left on the floor into it, wrinkling her nose – eau d'teenage boy – as she did. She added the empty glass and plate she'd found sticking out from under his bed to the top of the pile in the basket. As an afterthought, she filled a glass with water and put it by his bedside. Surveying the room, she nodded, satisfied with her work. Over compensating? Perhaps. But it sure felt good.  
  
Finally, she turned on the lamp next to his bed, and turned out the overhead light as she left the room, laundry basket tucked under her arm.  
  
By the time Ryan finished getting ready for bed, his head had cleared enough to make him feel self-conscious about Kirsten's presence on the other side of the bathroom door. He looked at the clock in the bathroom. 3:17? Why was Kirsten bringing him laundry at 3 o'clock in the morning? Had he done something wrong? Was he in trouble?  
  
Decidedly uneasy now, Ryan exited the bathroom, and found the pool house empty. Kirsten was gone. In the soft glow of the lamp, he could see clean clothes on his neatly turned down bed. His dirty dishes were gone, too, replaced by a fresh glass of water. Ryan walked slowly down the two steps to the bed and sat on its edge. He noticed now that his disgusting uniform was gone, his cleats moved to the side so that he wouldn't trip over them. Weird, he thought, looking around uncertainly. Ryan lay down on his bed, reaching across the short distance to turn out his light.  
  
xxxx  
  
Kirsten made a point, after that night, to check on Ryan whenever she checked on Seth. It wasn't every night, or even every week, but if she was up in the night, she looked in on both boys.  
  
Seth never stirred. She and Sandy had joked when he was a little boy that they could have undressed him, bathed him and shaved his head without his blinking an eye. Nothing had changed.  
  
Ryan was a different story.  
  
The next couple of times she'd checked on him had been similar to the first – Ryan startling, fully dressed, out of bed at the first sound he heard. She'd been tempted to stop checking on him because she hated the fact that she scared him so each time, but the tentative smile and shy "thanks" she'd gotten the following morning when he'd come in for breakfast made her reconsider. So she'd continued her occasional nighttime visits, acting as if she noticed nothing out of the ordinary in his panicked behavior, but always staying long enough for him to settle down, talking softly, soothing him with just her presence.  
  
xxxx  
  
Wrapping her robe around her, Kirsten padded the distance from the main house to the pool house. Pushing the door open, Kirsten eased into Ryan's room. The lights were on and music was playing in his stereo, but he was dead to the world. Kirsten made it across the room and had turned off the CD before Ryan stirred. Mumbling something incoherent, he rolled over toward her and opened his eyes.  
  
"Hey, sweetie. I'm just turning this off, OK?"  
  
"OK." Ryan sat up and blinked at her.  
  
Kirsten smiled. "You want to go get ready for bed?"  
  
Ryan looked down at what he was wearing and nodded his head. "Yeah, OK."  
  
He clambered off the bed, and went into the bathroom.  
  
This time, Kirsten was in the middle of her straightening routine when Ryan reemerged.  
  
"Thanks," he said through a mouthful of toothbrush and toothpaste.  
  
Kirsten laughed. "You're welcome. You got a glass or anything in there that needs to be washed?"  
  
Ryan retrieved a couple of bowls and a spoon. Kirsten looked at him in question and Ryan blushed. "I eat my cereal in there when I'm running late for school sometimes."  
  
Nodding sagely, Kirsten took the dishes. "Right."  
  
She added what he'd given her to the clothesbasket.  
  
"Good night, Ryan."  
  
"Good night."  
  
xxxx  
  
There was only the faintest glow of light coming from the pool house as Kirsten made her way past the pool. The door swung open quietly, and Kirsten stepped inside. Ryan lay sprawled face down on the bed, a schoolbook peeking out from under his cheek.  
  
As she approached the bed, she could see that he was dressed for bed tonight. One leg of his sweatpants had ridden up to mid-calf and Kirsten could see the smooth skin of his shoulders exposed above the collar of his t-shirt. Hardly conscious she was doing it, Kirsten reached out a hand to touch the nape of his neck with her fingertips, reminded suddenly, overwhelmingly, of Seth as a little boy, lost in sleep, the sweet vulnerability of that spot making her ache with love for him. She felt it again – that joy, that ache – coursing through her, stunning her.  
  
God, she loved this child.  
  
Ryan stirred under her touch, and Kirsten jerked her hand away with a start, swallowing the tears she'd felt begin to burn her eyes.  
  
"Kirsten?" It was muffled and sleepy, vulnerable. He turned his head toward her, but he didn't open his eyes.  
  
"Hey, sweetie," she whispered it, trying to hide the emotion that was threatening to undo her. "Can you raise your head for me a minute? Let me get this book."  
  
"'kay." He lifted his head and turned it away from her, giving her just enough time to slide the book out from under his cheek. "Night."  
  
"Good night, baby." She leaned down and kissed him softly. Running gentle fingers through his hair, she breathed, "I love you."  
  
xxxx  
  
Kirsten stood by Ryan's bed, looking down at the sleeping boy. Sandy stood next to her, an arm wrapped around her waist.  
  
"Watch this," he whispered.  
  
Releasing Kirsten, Sandy gently grabbed a hold of Ryan's shoulder.  
  
"Sandy!" Kirsten whispered urgently, moving to intercept her husband.  
  
Sandy, holding her off with an elbow and a grin, smoothly pulled Ryan toward him. Ryan rolled limply toward Sandy who balanced the boy on his side, reaching over him to snag the sheet. Raising it up over the sleeping boy, Sandy lowered Ryan back to the mattress, settling the sheet over his unconscious form. Ryan snuffled something unintelligible, and turned over on his stomach, clutching the covers to him.  
  
Kirsten, a hand to her mouth, smiled tearily at Sandy.

Sandy smoothed a hand over Ryan's head.  
  
"So. You wanna shave his head?"


End file.
